


Make Your Mark

by Kika988



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Keith (Voltron), Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 08:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kika988/pseuds/Kika988
Summary: "I've been thinking about getting a tattoo." It's obviously not what Keith expected, judging by the flicker of surprise across his face."That's… wow. Huh. Cool." Shiro can see him debating with himself before he adds, "I've never heard you talk about wanting one before." It's a question without an asking."It's a relatively recent thing," Shiro admits. "But I'm pretty sure I want to do it. It's…" He pauses, grasping at the words to explain why he wants it. "There's a few reasons, but a big part is that I'm choosing it," he finally says. He looks down at where his hands are joined together in his lap, one flesh, one metal. "This isn't the body I was born into, and it's had a lot of stuff done to it I had no say in. But I can choose this." He glances up at Keith, who's watching him with wide eyes, and huffs out a laugh. "It sounds dumb when I put it like that. Like a 'property of' stamp, right?"Shiro's working to claim this new body as his own while trying to bridge the gap that's opened between him and Keith. It's a bit of a balancing act, and not one he feels at all confident in.





	Make Your Mark

**Author's Note:**

> 'Shiro getting a tattoo' is an idea I've had for months, but turns out once I actually started writing it, he wanted a lot more than just some ink. 
> 
> Many thanks to Kettish for the beta!

The thought isn't a new one. It's been rolling around in the back of Shiro's mind for some time now. Long enough, anyway, that he feels pretty sure he's going to go through with it. Once he starts thinking about the specifics, though, he realizes he needs to have a conversation first. 

That's how he finds himself outside Keith's quarters on the Atlas, the day after they touched back down on Earth following a brief diplomatic mission. They have at least a couple weeks of shore leave unless an emergency crops up and Shiro has an idea of how he might take advantage of that. When he makes up his mind and crosses the hall to Keith's room, he barely has time to knock at the door before Atlas helpfully opens it for him. 

Keith looks up in surprise from where he'd been leveraging himself up off the couch, obviously reacting to the knock. 

"Sorry," Shiro says instantly. "I've been trying to work with Atlas on the concept of privacy, and I thought she'd been doing better, but-" 

"It's okay, Shiro," Keith laughs, the sound sending a frisson of pleasure down Shiro's spine. "I added you to the door permissions anyway, so really she was just saving you the trouble of using the print pad." He sinks back down onto the couch. "You know you're welcome here whenever." 

He doesn't know that, actually. Sometimes it feels like there is a gaping chasm between them these days, a wide, aching gap that he knows he had a hand in creating and now doesn't know how to bridge. Somewhere between living and dying and living again, then almost dying, then following the thread of Keith's pleas back to life once more, his feelings had shifted, and sometimes that made walking the line between friendship and something more a little difficult for him. Far too often he'd pulled away rather than risk spilling everything.

With everything that's happened, it's no surprise to Shiro that he has some difficulty connecting to people, but he never expected that to extend to Keith, even if the reason for that distance is different than the others. Part of him hopes his reason for visiting tonight might help mend part of that divide.

"Good day off?" Shiro asks, stepping farther into the room, aiming for casual. 

"Yeah," Keith replies, tucking one leg underneath him, pointedly making room for Shiro on the couch. He looks soft and comfortable in a tank top and black sweatpants. "Spent some time tuning up the hoverbike, let the space wolf stretch his legs some." He raises a shoulder in a shrug. "Nothing important, really. How about you?" 

"I ended up working a little," Shiro admits as he settles on the opposite end of the couch. "Not all day," he adds, grinning at Keith's scowl. "Just looking at some potential personnel changes. A few people want to stay planetside for a little while." 

"I can't imagine you're lacking in applicants to take their places," Keith says wryly, and he's not wrong. The Atlas is the Coalition's flagship, and Shiro has hundreds of applications from multiple planets at his fingertips. 

"Yeah, no shortage there," he agrees, laughing. The sound dies off a little awkwardly, and there's no missing how the silence that falls between them isn't the comfortable one they used to share. Shiro hates himself a little for being the cause of that. Keith's looking pointedly down at the pad in his lap, lips pressed into a thin line, and he knows he's not the only one who's noticed. "I, uh. I actually came to ask you something," he says, forcing himself to break the silence.

Keith looks up, intrigued. "Oh?" 

"Yeah." Shiro shifts on the couch, turning to face Keith. "I've been thinking about getting a tattoo." It's obviously not what Keith expected, judging by the flicker of surprise across his face. 

"That's… wow. Huh. Cool." Shiro can see him debating with himself before he adds, "I've never heard you talk about wanting one before." It's a question without an asking. 

"It's a relatively recent thing," Shiro admits. "But I'm pretty sure I want to do it. It's…" He pauses, grasping at the words to explain why he wants it. "There's a few reasons, but a big part is that I'm choosing it," he finally says. He looks down at where his hands are joined together in his lap, one flesh, one metal. "This isn't the body I was born into, and it's had a lot of stuff done to it I had no say in. But I can choose this." He glances up at Keith, who's watching him with wide eyes, and huffs out a laugh. "It sounds dumb when I put it like that. Like a 'property of' stamp, right?" 

" _No_ ," Keith responds instantly. "No, it's not dumb at all. Might be the best reason for a tattoo I've ever heard," he says with a grin. "What did you need to ask, though?"

"The design I'm thinking of," Shiro says slowly, "is based on Black. So I guess I wanted to ask if you're okay with that?" 

Keith frowns. "Shiro, you know I don't- you know you really don't need to ask that, right?" 

"I figured you'd say that," Shiro replies, smiling sheepishly. "But I still decided I'd feel better about it, if I asked."

"If you want the tattoo, go for it," Keith says, though his tone is distracted, his brow a bit furrowed. He waits a beat, then says, "Is that why things have been… you know. Different. Between us?" He glances up, something pained in his gaze. "Did you move to Pidge's lion because you thought I didn't want you in Black with me?"

"No!" Shiro's response is instant and borderline horrified. "God, Keith, no. It wasn't anything you did, it was just… I needed to get my head on straight, after everything." 

"And you could do that easier with Pidge?" Keith asks cautiously, lips pressed thin. 

Shiro sucks in a shuddering breath. He's got to open up here, has to spill a little honesty, or else he's going to hurt Keith even more than he already has. "A little, yes," he says, looking down at his hands. "But only because… sometimes I feel like you see straight through me," he admits. "Most everyone else sees Shiro, but you see Takashi. It was harder to pretend to be okay with you." 

"I never wanted you to pretend," Keith says fiercely. "Never, not around me." 

"I know," Shiro says, and his smile is small but sincere. "But at the time, I needed to be able to pretend for _me_." 

Keith nods slowly. "I can understand that," he admits. "I just hate that it turned into…" He gestures vaguely between them. "You know. A whole thing. I thought maybe you were mad that I took Black from you. Like before." 

"I _love_ that you pilot Black," Shiro says, nothing but raw honesty in his voice. "I can't imagine anyone else doing it. And… and I like that it's something we share," he admits. "It's part of why I want the tattoo. It's not just for my connection with Black. It's because it represents _us_ , too."

Keith goes very still, eyes snapping up to meet Shiro's. "You- because of us?" 

Shiro nods. "Yeah, of course. Keith, you're-" He hesitates ever so briefly, but he knows Keith deserves to hear it. "You're the most important person in my life. I can't imagine where I'd be right now without you." Keith's silent, eyes wide as he stares at Shiro, so he swallows hard and pushes on. "Which is why I was hoping you might draw it for me." 

That seems to snap Keith out of his reverie. "What? Fuck, Shiro, I can't do that!" 

"I can pay you for it," Shiro says, leaning in closer. "Whatever you want, I'll-" 

"I don't need you to _pay_ me for it," Keith says, scowling. "I just don't have the skill for it. Not for something that's going to be on your skin _forever_." 

"That's just it, though," Shiro says, shifting impatiently on the couch, gesturing as if that can somehow make Keith understand. "Why would I want some random person's drawing on me, when it could be drawn by _you_? And of course you have the skill for it," he adds, almost as an afterthought. "I've seen your sketchbook, Keith. You're incredible." 

Keith stares at Shiro for a long moment, a number of emotions flitting across his face, before he settles on one Shiro has seen countless times before: determination. 

"Alright," he agrees. "I'll try. Just because it's you, I'll try."

* * *

The next week and a half, they meet up nearly every night, discussing the design at first, then Shiro watching as Keith begins working on sketches. He thinks they're all beautiful, honestly, but he can admit he's never had much of an eye for design, and Keith finds something wrong with each one. It pains him to see Keith rip the pages out of his sketchbook and trash them, but he manages to avoid the instinct to dive after them, to smooth the wrinkles out and hold onto each sketch. 

Finally, about ten days after their first conversation about it, Shiro enters Keith's room to see him carefully inking in the lines of a sketch. 

"I think I may have something," Keith says, and his tone is hesitant, but it's the most optimistic Shiro's heard him be about his own art since they started this. He steps over to the desk and looks over Keith's shoulder to see the design, and feels the breath catch in his chest. 

"It's perfect," he breathes, reaching out to touch the page on pure instinct. Keith catches his hand an inch from the page, and glances up at him apologetically. 

"Sorry, it's just- the ink's not dry yet." 

"Right, yeah, of course," Shiro says, feeling a little stupid as he pulls his hand back. It had just drawn him in so completely he hadn't had time to stop and think. The design is beautiful, the lioness regal, wise, and tranquil as it stares out from the page. Over the lion's head is a series of bold black lines, sweeping over its ears and under its eyes, curving around its jaw and muzzle to create the outline of the helmet worn with the paladin armor. "Perfect," he repeats, unable to look away. 

"I have a few other ideas, if you want to look at some other options," Keith offers. 

Shiro shakes his head emphatically. "I don't need them," he says firmly. "This is it. I want this one."

It's amazing how quickly schedules clear and appointments suddenly open up at the name _Takashi Shirogane_. It's something Shiro isn't entirely comfortable with most of the time, but in this case it works to his advantage, gaining him an appointment with a renowned tattoo artist in LA less than a week after Keith finishes the design. When Shiro sends the image to the studio, the tattoo artist tells him they can likely do it in one sitting, but it will be several hours of work, and some people have to tap out partway through and let it heal a bit before continuing. Shiro's pretty confident he can get it done all at once, and yet-

"Would you mind going with me?" He feels a little silly asking, like a child asking for an escort, but he still gets a little nervous about needles, and Keith always makes him feel better. Safer. 

"Sure," Keith agrees easily. Everything about them seems easier, recently. Shiro hopes it stays that way. 

The day of the appointment, Keith offers to fly them over in Black, and Shiro accepts. It seems fitting, somehow. The tattoo parlour's storefront is nondescript, part of a long, low strip mall, only half of which is still standing after the war. The inside is well-lit and clean, with comfortable chairs and large artbooks in the waiting room. 

Shiro's artist introduces herself as Lindsey with a bright smile and a firm handshake. She reminds him a bit of Veronica, and he likes her immediately. She greets Keith warmly as well, and has no problem with him accompanying Shiro back to the table. 

When she uses the transfer paper to place the linework on Shiro's back, she gives him a handheld mirror and points him to a large mirror on the wall to look for any changes in positioning. It's at the top of his back, centered over his spine about the size of his hand. Shiro holds up the mirror and stares for a long moment before making a face. 

"It looks good to me, but it's hard to tell. Keith, does it look even?"

Keith had been standing back, but now he steps forward, eyes glued to Shiro's back. 

"You're sure about this?" Keith asks. "I mean, it's straight and centered, but. You're sure?" 

"I'm positive," Shiro says firmly. He can only see the bare outline of Keith's art on his skin, but it already feels right. He meets Keith's eyes in the mirror and smiles, and Keith relaxes a little. 

Lindsey shows Shiro to the table they'll be using, and he takes a moment to get comfortable and attempt to center himself. She seems to pick up on his nerves and keeps up a steady stream of conversation, describing what she's doing, the type of ink she uses, and various funny anecdotes about the shop. 

"Alright, I'm all set up," she says, far more quickly than Shiro anticipated. "You ready?" 

Shiro reaches out toward Keith blindly and feels a warm hand grasp his own. "I'm ready." 

The buzz of the tattoo gun fills the room, and he tenses as it first makes contact. Keith's hand squeezes his reassuringly, and Shiro puts an effort into relaxing. It hurts, a sharp sting, moving in sweeping motions along his back, but he reminds himself this is _his_ choice, Keith is here with him, and he can stop any time he wants.

In the end, it takes a little over three hours. There are times he clenches his jaw against the pain, especially when she's working on the parts right over his spine, but he rides it out, determined to get it done. 

Keith never lets go of his hand once.

Shiro's in a bit of a daze, his back still feeling as if it's buzzing as Lindsey tapes over the tattoo and gives him some basic care instructions, but Keith accepts the care sheet she offers. Shiro manages to come to himself enough to pay and leave a generous tip. 

When they get back to the Garrison, they don't discuss it but it feels perfectly natural for Keith to follow Shiro into his quarters. Shiro goes into the bathroom for a moment, and peels the tape and plastic off the tattoo while he's in there; he'd heard at least enough of Lindsey's care spiel to know that is okay. He looks over his shoulder to see the tattoo in the mirror, and can't help but smile; it's a little red and irritated right now, but that's Keith's artwork, emblazoned on his skin in bold black lines. 

It's new, but it's _his_ , much like this cloned body. He likes the symbolism in that, likes that he had a choice in placing this mark on his skin. _His_ skin, no matter where it may have originated.

"How does it feel?" Keith asks when Shiro steps out. He's standing by the couch, a little curled in on himself, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

"Sore," Shiro admits. "Not just the skin -- my back and shoulders are sore from me tensing up while she was working. It's not awful, though."

Keith nods, then opens and closes his mouth twice before he manages to speak. "Can I see it?"

He'd seen it at the tattoo parlour, but Shiro understands; it's different, in familiar surroundings. He tugs his shirt off over his head again, wincing as his muscles shift under raw, tender skin. He turns around so Keith can see his back, dropping his head to look at the carpet between his feet.

There's a quiet shuffling sound as Keith steps closer, close enough for Shiro to feel the phantom warmth of him against his back, and then there's the lightest brush of Keith's fingers just outside the edge of the tattoo. The skin's still sensitive there, but Shiro honestly can't tell if it's that or the fact that it's _Keith_ touching him almost reverently that causes him to suck in a breath. 

Keith goes still behind him. "Does that hurt?" 

"No," Shiro answers honestly. Keith's fingers are cool and gentle, a balm against the heat and irritation of his skin. "It feels nice." It's the type of honestly he normally doesn't allow himself around Keith, not since he'd realized his feelings had changed, but today feels different. Today Keith had held Shiro's hand as Shiro's skin had been indelibly marked with a piece of Keith. 

Keith traces around the outside of the tattoo, careful to not touch the ink itself. "It looks good," he finally says, his voice a little strangled. "It's… I made that," he says, laughing a little, disbelieving. "And it's on you, now, forever." 

"It's hardly the biggest impression you've left on me," Shiro says, and there's too much honesty in his voice, too much longing, but he can't seem to control it so he can only hope Keith will forgive it. "Just the most visible." Keith's hand drops and Shiro turns to face him, gripping his balled-up shirt tightly to help him resist the urge to reach out and touch. 

The thing is, Keith always says he's not good at reading people, but he's always been good at reading _Shiro_ , so when he looks up at Shiro and a sudden expression of understanding crosses his face, Shiro experiences a moment of unrestrained terror. 

"Shiro-" 

"Well, um, thanks for going with me today, I should be fine now, just going to turn..." 

"Shiro."

"...in early, probably, so-" 

" _Shiro!_ " Keith's tone is a cracking whip across the spiraling anxious mess that is Shiro's brain, and he fumbles to a stop, eyes falling shut. He should have known he couldn't hide this forever. He _had_ known, really. "Shiro, you know I love you, right?" 

And Shiro _does_ know that. Keith shows it in a million little ways, and Shiro could never forget how Keith had yelled it in desperation at the Shiro-Who-Wasn't, followed by _you're my brother_. It's the most bittersweet memory Shiro has. 

"I know," Shiro says, smiling, because while he may wish things were a little different, no form of Keith's love is a consolation prize. "Like a brother. I can't tell you how much that me-" 

"No," Keith interrupts, scowling. "Shiro, you- fuck, is that why? All this time?" He makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and steps even closer, grabbing Shiro's arms. "I thought we were both going to _die_. I didn't have time to… to draft out what I was going to say. I just needed you to know you're _everything_ to me. I've loved you like a brother in the past, yes, but now-" He reaches up, pushing his fingers back along the line of Shiro's jaw, his thumb skimming just under his lower lip. "It's a lot more than that." 

"Keith," Shiro breathes. It's the only word he can manage, but that's okay, because it's the only word that's ever mattered this much.

Keith grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Can I kiss you?" 

Shiro can only huff out a breath of laughter in disbelief. "Keith, I basically just had a representation of you inked onto my back, I think you can do just about anything you want at this point." 

"Good," Keith says firmly as he hooks a hand around the back of Shiro's neck and draws him in. "Because, fair warning, I've wanted you long enough that I've had plenty of time to think about a lot more than just kissing."

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/B1ackPa1adins) for lots of Sheith emotions and the occasional fanfic thread.


End file.
